


Shirt

by baeberiibungh



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cuddles, Domesticity, Feeding, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Nudity, Post S3, Sharing Clothes, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal feels something move near his heart as he sees Will walk around the kitchen with just Hannibal’s shirt falling loosely around him…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shirt

The coffee smelled fragrant, as Hannibal poured one cup out. Toast, eggs and sausages, all done to perfection sat on the table already. Hannibal could hear Will in the bedroom walking about and the door to the bathroom opening and closing after a few minutes. It had been a few month since the cliff, the frantic swimming to safety and escape with Chiyoh’s help, as well as immediate medical assistance with his heart in his mouth-Will’s injuries were somewhat more substantial than Hannibal’s even though Hannibal had been the one to get shot. Months still for them to settle, to find a house, to hide in sight within sight and not been found so easily. Yes, it had been a hectic few months.

And through it all, Hannibal had come to appreciate the kind of steady schedule they have built up. The rooms have changed, the beds varying in softness and distance and one memorable time the bathroom had been beyond filthy resulting in Hannibal almost killing the proprietor. He didn’t though as Will pointed out that they could not arise attention towards them by doing something like that. Even then, the man had been left with a lethal fear of the cool eyed foreign man and his indifferent companion. So they had been moving around a lot, the stretches of stay in one place increasing by inches, just not enough to pose a problem, and they have got their rituals pat down.

Hannibal always wakes first, no matter what time he went to sleep or what they had been doing at night for how long. He will brush his teeth, shave and then head to the kitchen, to make breakfast. Will would join him soon enough before the prepared food had gone cold or the coffee tepid. Will will come to Hannibal with his tousled curls, his glasses sitting on his nose askew, his mouth soft and in a subtle pout at being awake and his eyes at half-mast as he stumbled about. Will was, much to Hannibal’s amusement, not a morning person, and would have liked to stay in bed for one or two more hours, but his need to be as near Hannibal as possible always won over his need to sleep. 

So Will would get out of the bed, pull on his boxers, head to the bathroom and then follow in Hannibal’s wake, just like a befuddled puppy really, his steps somehow fuzzy on the floor, and then he would stumble on to Hannibal, still not completely awake and glomp onto him. Will would hug Hannibal from the behind or some days just go and sit on his lap directly and peer grumpily at the world at large. Hannibal would pull the Will’s plate near and then feed him the first bites till Will would start eating on his own. Will would sit on Hannibal’s lap till he was finished and then Hannibal would softly push him off his lap to clean the table.

That was the cue for Will to head to the bathroom again, take a shower and then come dressed out for the day’s activities, whatever the two had planned for the day the night before, or just sit on the living room sofa and read books and listen to music, so long as they are not getting on the run again. At first, Will used to be conscious about his body, no matter how Hannibal would worship it each night and day, every chance he got. Initially Will would come out wearing his full clothes in the morning which was funny to watch sometimes as he would put them on very clumsily. Hannibal, who abhorred such things in other, found it adorable in Will. But slowly, the amount of clothes just after waking lessened with the months till Will was OK walking around in his boxers, his scars on display.

That morning though, when Will came in, he was not wearing his boxer but Hannibal’s crumpled shirt from yesterday, only a few buttons pulled on. Will’s soft cock peeked out from the edge of the shirt. Hannibal felt something move near his heart as he saw Will walk around the kitchen with just Hannibal’s shirt falling loosely around him, covering him just barely, but casting no protection, no attempts to hide from Hannibal. Will first headed to the coffee pot, poured out a big cup and then came and sat on Hannibal’s lap again, this time facing him as he burrowed his head on Hannibal’s shoulder and snuffling into his neck. Hannibal put down his fork, and then cradled Will to him as Will dozed on, completely relaxed and his hands clasped into Hannibal’s shirt. 

They sat like that for an hour perhaps, Will’s full plate and Hannibal’s half eaten food growing cold behind Will. Will had drawn two sips from his cup before he had placed his cup on the table and straddled Hannibal. There was absolute hush in the small kitchen, the only sound the deep breaths of the two occupants and the loud ticking of the cuckoo clock that the house came with. After Will woke up, the first thing he did was kiss Hannibal sleepily, no morning breath as he had already brushed his teeth and run his fingers through Hannibal’s soft hair. They were very smooth to touch and almost flimsy in essence as they were very fine. 

Will broke the kiss and leant back and Hannibal’s eyes travelled on his face over each centimeter, taking in the scar on his cheek, the lips that looked swollen and lovely, the eyes that had always been able to Hannibal when no one else had. Hannibal saw the worry deep in Will’s eyes, the fear of being discovered and caught always there, of being kept away from Hannibal and the love, for there was no other word more apt to use there, the love that shone through. Hannibal would sometimes wonder what did Will see now in his eyes, the killer already being recognized and accepted. 

Does he see the emptiness, Hannibal wonders, that had been sitting at the core of him, so hungry, forever hungry, the blackhole that Mischa’s flesh tore? Never sated, never full, never done. Or the glimmers of want that seems to have suffused Hannibal since Will, consumed him in a way nothing else had ever. Sometimes Hannibal wants to sit Will down and ask, for the sake of his curious soul, just what did he see anymore. And how come Will didn’t show a bit of fear of it, but just looked on with his eyes full of love.

Will leaned forward and gave him another lingering kiss. Hannibal put away questions for another time, some other day and basked in the tight hold of Will’s hands and the sweet perfume emanating from his body, his bare cock soft and sitting on Hannibal’s lap and the slight flush that Hannibal could feel heating his own cheeks as he continued kissing. Will looks good in his shirt, Hannibal decides. Very good, he thinks again as he pulls Will closer still and _eats_ his mouth, tongue and spit and the soft crush of the inside of the mouth and Hannibal just devours him, still not sated, still so hungry, but in a different way, with a different hunger that does not leave him feeling even more empty than before.

They kiss for minutes, long minutes and then Hannibal gets up and makes breakfast again, feeding each other bite to Will as both stand by the burner, and Hannibal feels sated and calm and full and it feels unbelievably good. Breakfast done, Will gives one more lingering kiss to Hannibal and rubs his chubbing cock on Hannibal’s thigh before turning and walking out of the kitchen, a lilt to the sway of his ass and Hannibal looks on, hungry again, once more of a different kind and follows after him everything else forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> I kink hard on that :P. Unbetaed. Thanks for reading. Please, Comment on what you think and kudos!


End file.
